


Mark

by Yana of the Arcana (sad_goomy)



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Backstory, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Light Angst, Romance, apologies if it's rough, must be at least lvl 5 to unlock yana's tragic backstory, one of the first things i wrote to flesh out yana
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14479038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sad_goomy/pseuds/Yana%20of%20the%20Arcana
Summary: He isn't the only one with a brand from a past that haunts him. Hers is just a little more mysterious.





	Mark

 

It's one of the first things he sees about her.

It would have been more useful to see the bottle swinging right for his head, but instead Julian's eyes found the blur of black on the back of her right hand. He couldn't make out the shape well until she finally agreed to read his cards. As she shuffled the deck and carefully drew his fortune, his eyes were glued to the symbol, unable to decode it.

The first time he asks her about it, it's just a day after their rough start, and she's still guarded and waiting to attack. He's busy looking at the letter, but still his gaze flickers to her hand. After he's answered her questions, he jerks his chin towards the mark.

"As illegible as my handwriting may be, that symbol seems even harder to decipher." She blinks, subtly covering it with her left hand. He leans forward ever so slightly, and she doesn't move, though her eyes are hard and looking for the first sign of danger. "How did you manage to get it?"

"Ran away to join the circus."

It's clear she's not going to be much help, so he cuts his losses and decides he'll try getting the information elsewhere.

He thinks back on his adventures but can't come up with much else besides confirming that it's not a criminal's brand.

He tries asking around, but even with a sketch, it's not something anyone can claim to have seen firsthand. The closest he gets is a barkeep who mutters something about it looking like it came from a land somewhere past or between Nevivon and Prakra.

He tucks himself away in a bookstore for an afternoon and decides to add looking up the symbol with his list of inquiries. There isn't much literature that covers it, and what he does manage to find is mostly restricted to Vesuvia, or ancient practices that have died out centuries ago.

 

* * *

 

 

When she's somehow ended up in his bed, urging him to sleep after an interrupted kiss, Julian figures he might as well try his luck again.

She's curled up on the other side of the bed, but still just breaths away, eyes flickering from his face to her hands which lay by her head. He stares unabashedly at them, and slowly his left hand moves to lift her right, his thumb tracing the black mark. She doesn't protest and instead silently watches, her eyes on the murderer's mark on his own hand.

"Still don't know what it means?"

Yana gives him a mysterious smile when he looks at her, his thumb pausing in drawing circles on the back of her hand. He does his best to give a roguish smirk, but it's tainted by exhaustion. "Not the faintest idea."

She hums, and for a moment he thinks she's going to remain quiet about the matter, turn over and go to sleep without ever saying another word about it. Her eyelids are drooping with fatigue, but he can still see something unpleasant cloud them, and her brows furrow with distaste. "It's a bad memory."

"What a coincidence, so is mine."

Her tired laugh gives him the energy to smile, but he keeps his hand on top of hers. She doesn't say anything about it and doesn't make a move to take her hand back. A long minute, maybe an hour, maybe a year, passes as her smile fades into a small frown and she stares at the mark on her hand.

"I wasn't lying before, when I said it was from the circus."

He blinks. "Really?"

She does her best to nod, and the friction between her head and the mattress musses her hair further. "Although I didn't join it voluntarily." He waits for her to continue, watching her breathing remain controlled and steady, though her eyes waver in resolve. Just when he decides to backtrack and insist she get some sleep, she tells him slowly, "My memories are hazy, but I do remember most of this part of my life. I didn't have a family. They didn't have a use for me. There was a troupe who needed performers, and I wasn't old enough to make my own decision. I think money was exchanged."

It comes out in fragments, each one sharper than the last, but she's too used to the story to become much more than melancholic.

"All the performers had it, because all of us wanted to escape. It was fine, most days. Some days...less so. I've tried to remove it with magic, but they thought ahead. It's permanent. Sometimes it makes me feel like I never really left."

Yana bites her lip, as if to keep the words from spilling out. Julian squeezes her hand lightly. "How did you get out?"

She lets out a yawn, and he struggles to keep his eyes open. "That I remember even less of. A story for another day."

He likes the sound of that; it sounds like a promise that there will be another day.

Julian watches her nod off, her breathing becoming slower and her lips falling open. He stays awake for just a little while longer, his thumb going back to tracing the mark and his gaze going between his own and hers.

When he finally falls asleep, he's still holding her hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still hurt by Chapter X so here's something still a little sad but fluffier.


End file.
